


Growing Up

by lemonadecherry



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Children, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Broken Families, Childhood Trauma, Foster Care, Found Family, M/M, Recovery, Redemption, Underage Drinking, Underage Drug Use, Unhealthy Age Difference, Unhealthy Relationships, also the klance is VERY VERY implied, and its not till like the last 3 sentences so sorry if you came for ship content, i wasnt planning on posting this, i wrote it just for fun but then i finished it so i decided to post it, my boy keith had a v warward childhood, the end of this fic is happy but the rest is not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-16
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-08-03 06:42:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16321109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemonadecherry/pseuds/lemonadecherry
Summary: Keith Kogane never had enough time, and also had way too much time on his hands.He always seemed to have something going on, and also nothing at the same time. It had always been like that, since he was young.





	1. The last time Keith Kogane saw his mother

**Author's Note:**

> hooo. like i said in the tags, this is something i wrote just for fun, i really didnt think i would post it but here we are. i also havent written a voltron fic in like a year so i sorta had to relearn how to write the characters again, and i think i did alright. i tried my hardest to make sure it wasnt ooc, but idk how well i did since i havent written these characters in so long. 
> 
> also, this is a oneshot. ive just split it up into three parts for stylistic choices. feel free to read it all in one block.
> 
> much love, enjoy!
> 
> tumblr: not-a-machine

Keith Kogane never had enough time, and also had way too much time on his hands. 

 

He always seemed to have something going on, and also nothing at the same time. It had always been like that, since he was young.  His early childhood was a rapidfire series of events. A mother working in a secret organization, dying her hair crazy colors every other week and dragging her family into her never resting lifestyle. Krolia Montgomery was a flurry of impulse and bad decisions. 

 

Keith loved this about her. He loved when she would wake him up in the middle of the night to go get milkshakes. He loved the wind in his hair when she took him on her motorcycle. He loved the passionate glint in her eyes as she taught him how to throw knives for the first time. 

 

There was another side to her habit of doing without thinking. She had a reckless disregard to considering consequences of her actions, and from that a very hard time accepting those consequences. 

 

She’d often come home after hours of Keith’s dad worrying, stumbling and words smudging into one another. She was always trying some new liquor, always breaking some new bone. As Keith got older she favored tattoos and piercings, it seemed that there was a new modification to her body every week. 

 

When he was about 5 she would have breakdowns out of nowhere. She would be chopping onions for dinner and begin just staring at the knife, twisting it a few times before Keith’s dad rushed to take it away from her, directing her to bed, and smiling at Keith, pretending like nothing was wrong. He would hear her in the shower, screaming and sobbing. He didn’t really understand what was going on, not at that age, but he knew something was wrong. 

 

It was three weeks before he turned 6. She had been having a good day, glimmers of her former self coming through, so Keith’s dad had trusted her with him for a couple hours. 

 

“Momma!” Tiny feet carried him into the kitchen, where Krolia stood, mixing some sort of batter into a bowl. She smiled down at him, picking him up before twirling him in her arms. 

 

“Keith, little man! What do you need!” She placed him on the counter so they could be at eye level as she continued to cook. 

 

“I wanted you to braid my hair.” Keith said, twirling one of his many thick black strands in his hands. Keith had very long hair, flowing down to his waist. “Dad normally does it, but he’s shopping right now.” 

 

“Of course, just let momma finish mixing this batter, okay?” She smiled at him, pouring some chocolate chips into the bowl. 

 

“Are you inviting people to my birthday party?” Keith asked innocently, swinging his feet. 

 

“Your...birthday party. Keith, isn’t that not for another few months?” She asked, rinsing the spoon off. 

 

“Nope! It’s Saturday. I’m gonna be 6!” He clapped his hands excitedly. 

 

“6.” She mumbled to herself. “Wow, you’re getting...really old buddy.” She froze in place for a second before considering. “I’m getting...really...old.  Keith, wanna go with momma to the tattoo parlor?”

 

“Dad said your not allowed to get anymore tattoos, he said it’s the rules. And you said that people shouldn’t break rules.” Keith said, beginning to suck his thumb. 

 

“Hey, don’t do that, big boys don’t suck their thumbs. Also, it’s okay to break rules sometimes. If you don’t break rules sometimes you’ll never have fun. And, sometimes rules are bad rules.”

 

“Does dad make bad rules?” Keith asked. 

 

“No, of course not.” Krolia responded after some hesitation. “Here, how about instead, you go to the bathroom and sit with momma while she dyes her hair.” 

 

“But you just did that!” He giggled, pointing at her now bright pink locks. She stopped, took a deep breath, and grabbed a knife from the drawer, chucking it at the wall, relaxing as it thunked into the wall. 

 

“Here, Keith, sweetheart, I’ll do you one better than braiding your hair.” She picked him up, carrying him to the bathroom and grabbing the haircutting scissors from the cabinet. She set him on the counter, trimming his hair until it fell just below his chin. She then grabbed the bleach, bleaching the ends of his hair. As it sat, she opened the wall cabinet, revealing a wall of dye. 

 

‘What color do you want bud?” She turned to him. 

 

“Red!” He clapped his hands excitedly. 

 

“Alright.” She pulled the red out, and prepared the sink to rinse out his hair. “Your father is going to kill me for this.” 

 

It was two hours later as she blow dried his hair, wet from rinsing out the final dye job. Chocolate brown locks faded softly to a vibrant, angsty red, and she seemed to have calmed down considerably. 

 

“Do you like it?” She asked, unplugging the blow dryer. 

 

“I look like momma now!” He leaped up, wrapping his arms around her neck. She smiled, hugging back, and in the moment they didn’t notice the door opening. 

 

“Krolia.” A gruff voice from behind them started, and both of them looked over.

 

“Hey buddy look, your father’s home.” She gripped Keith protectively, and he was confused. His dad never hurt him before. 

 

“Keith, go to your room, okay. Momma and I need to talk for awhile.” He smiled at him, and in response Keith only gripped to Krolia’s shirt stronger.

 

“No, I wanna stay with Momma.” Instead of responding, he simply grabbed Keith, picking him up and carrying him to his room, before shutting the door and angrily stomping out. 

 

Keith knew his parents were arguing, but the only words he heard was Krolia screaming “That’s my fucking kid! You can’t do this! I want to see my son!” 

 

The next morning, his mother had all her bags packed. 

 

“Momma, where are you going?”

 

“Momma’s just going away for a little while, she’s going to a place where people will help her, okay bud?” His father rubbed his back as he watched her slide her shoes on. 

 

“Bye Keith, momma loves you, I’ll see you soon, okay?” She leaned down, kissing him on the forehead. And that was the last time Keith Kogane ever saw his mother. 


	2. The last time Keith Kogane acted his age

Keith’s dad had died 6 years later.  Not that Keith minded, his dad was never around anyways and whenever he was he seemed unnecessarily strict. It was quickly obvious that Keith took after his mother, with his impulsive decisions and itch to cause mayhem. 

 

His first foster family solidified his reputation as a bad kid. He terrified his little siblings, the twelve year old boy with angry violet eyes and the ability to hit 7 knives bullseye on the dartboard. Keith knew he was scary, bruised skin from frequent confrontations only making this worse. 

 

It was at dinner three months into being taken in that the first incident happened. They sat in the fancy dining room, eating a fancy meal that the fancy chefs prepared. Mr. and Mrs. Smith were the perfect American upper class couple, with the perfect American upper class family. Well, partly. Keith’s two little sisters Jane and Kelsey were, but Keith and his older brother James were not. James was 15, going through his rebellious phase, and was a very bad influence on his little siblings. Keith idolized him. 

 

Mr. Smith looked up at Keith, setting down his salad fork before beginning to talk. 

 

“Keith, your mother and I were talking-”

 

“She’s not my mother.” He glared up at them through his bangs. 

 

“We know that Krolia played a huge part in making you the person you are to be, but she was an awful influence. We so graciously took you under our wing, the least you could do is try and consider us family.” Mrs. Smith scoffed.

 

“Why would I consider you family when I already had one.” Keith huffed. 

 

“Well.”Mr. Smith continued, ignoring his statement. “Your mother and I have been talking, and we decided it’s best that you dye your hair back to its natural color. It makes the family look bad, see. We’re only allowed one problem child before the people of the neighborhood start gossiping.”

 

Keith got up, grabbing his steak knife and launching it into the wall behind them, barely grazing Mr. Smith’s ear. 

 

“Fuck. You.” He growled, staring at them. “My hair is one of the last things I have from my mother, and I’m not letting you take that from me, especially if it’s just because your prissy ass friends are gossiping about it.” He then slammed his plate on the floor, shattering it and staining the perfect white carpet. He angrily stomped to his room, not even looking back as his “family” stared at him in shock. 

 

The next day as he stood outside, bags packed, waiting for his social worker to pick him up, James walked out, going to Keith. 

 

“Hey Keith.” He smiled, ruffling the smaller boys hair. 

 

“Hi James.” Keith smiled back at him, as he slipped a small piece of paper into his hands. 

 

“For the record, I think what you said to them was pretty badass. Here’s my number, call me and we can smoke sometimes. I’m gonna miss having someone cool like you in the house.” Keith beamed, hearing the praise from him. 

 

“Of course.” The car rolled up, and Keith grabbed the handle to his suitcase. “Bye.”

 

“Seeya sharp-mouth.” James waved as Keith got into the car. 

 

Keith ended up taking James up on his offer a few days later. The orphanage was suffocating and toxic, and he just needed to get out. So he asked one of the workers to borrow the house phone, and called him up. And now there he was, in the backseat of some teenage boy’s car, James’ arm wrapped around his shoulders as he got to know his friends. 

 

“Keithyyy.” Alex, the oldest of the group, turned to look at him from the driver's seat. “I heard what you said to James’ parents, that was kickass dude. And I for one think your hair is fucking awesome.” The seventeen year old resumed rolling the blunts as Keith thanked him. 

 

“I’d say we dedicate this first hit to Keith, for standing up against those shithead old people.” John, the next oldest, chimed in from the passenger seat. And the group shouted “To Keith!” In unison, before James taught him how to light his own blunt. 

 

It was the most at home Keith had felt since Krolia left. 

 

Ever since that day, Keith became the youngest member of their group. And as they grew older, Keith discovered a little more about himself. When he had found out he was gay, they had a drink waiting for him. When a foster family kicked him out and beat him brutally for this discovery, they had a new set of pills waiting for him to try, 

 

They carved out a role for him, and he played it willingly. He was the eye candy of the group, the pretty one in the feminine clothes and the angsty black dyed hair. He was the one that made boys question their sexualities, and he reveled in it. 

 

It was when he was 15 that he got his first boyfriend. He looked good, he knew he did, he had put extra effort into his outfit. His favorite black heel boots, black short shorts, and firey red crop top, clinging to his skin perfectly. His bright red lipstick popped against his pale skin, and he had even bothered with eyeliner. Topping it off with his signature fishnet and choker combo, he strutted down the sidewalk in confidence, sun setting as he approached the groups meet up spot. 

 

John and James both had new girlfriends, they seemed to cycle through them every month or so, but Keith always found it weird that Alex never dated anyone. He was 19, rich, and not so bad looking (if you asked Keith, he’d deny it, but he thought Alex was one of the most attractive guys he had ever met.) He could have any girl he wanted. 

 

Later that night, when Alex pulled him into his lap, and whispered into his ear, mumbled about how pretty he was, Keith realized that maybe Alex didn’t want any of the girls who flung themselves toward him. Maybe, he wanted Keith. 

 

Keith dropped out of high school that next year. Alex had wanted him too, said it wasn’t important anyways. He was always ditching school anyways, going out with Alex and his friends. 

 

That was the time in his life where Keith best resembled his mother. His life was a fast paced hurricane of college parties with too loud music, nights stumbling around blackout drunk, cigarettes smoked down to their filters, 3 am in the tattoo parlor getting some tattoo or piercing. 

 

At the center of it all, was Alex. 


	3. The last time Keith Kogane felt hopeless

Keith had just about turned 17 when the Shirogane's decided to foster him. If he was being honest, he had no fucking clue why. Keith had long since been labeled at an out of control problem child, and he was aging out of the system in a little less than a year anyways. 

 

Nonetheless, there he was, wheeling his suitcase up the street as his newest brother talked his ear off. Shiro reminded him a lot of his father, which immediately set Keith’s warning bells off. Now that he was older, he knew that his father was just trying to help her, that Krolia needed someone to ground her.

 

Keith didn’t want to accept that he needed grounding too, so he continued to tell himself that his mother was right in the situation. He also found out that his spontaneity was genetic, something that was passed down from parent to child for centuries in his family.  He was doomed to live the rest of his life chasing some unknown thrill, before going too far and accidentally killing himself when he takes it too far. 

 

He ignored this. It’s probably what everyone else in his family did too, it’s probably why it killed them, but he was in denial. 

 

It was a week after living with the Shirogane's that Keith got his first wake up call. He was returning home from a party, heels clacking on the sidewalk as he stumbled in Alex’s arms. 

 

“You look so pretty in this dress.” Alex mumbled. “You need to wear it more often.” They stopped in front of Keiths new home, and stood there for a while, in each other’s arms. 

 

“I have a red one like this, I’ll wear it next week.” Keith whispered, pressing his lip’s to Alex’s. He then heard the door slam open, Shiro standing there and glaring. 

 

“Shit, that’s my brother, I gotta go. Happy birthday.” Keith waved at Alex as Shiro grabbed his arm, tugging him into the living room. 

 

“Keith it’s 4 am, where the hell were you? Who was that?” Shiro asked, handing Keith a water bottle. “And why are you drunk?” He sat down on the couch, where Keith was laying, staring at the roof. 

 

“It’s fine Shiro. That’s Alex, he’s my boyfriend, we were just going out for his 20th birthday. You can trust him.” Keith tried to take a sip of his water but missed, pouring it on his dress accidentally. 

 

“I can trust him?? Keith, you’re 17, he just turned 20. How can you not see how awful that is?” Shiro groaned, resting his head in his hands. 

 

“We’ve been dating since I was 15, something about Romeo and Juliet laws, it’s legal.”

 

“We don’t have Romeo and Juliet laws here, so it’s actually not legal. Also, legality doesn’t make it right. He’s only going to hurt you.” Shiro got up again, grabbing a towel for Keith. “Why are you even out drinking, it’s not legal.”

 

“It wasn’t legal the last 4 years of my life either, but it’s not like that stopped me.”

 

“Keith.” Shiro sighed, helping his brother up. “Go to bed, I’ll call you in sick to school tomorrow. Where do you go to school?”

 

“Oh, I dropped out last year, it’s fine.” Keith took his arm, letting himself be practically dragged up the stairs. 

 

“You...dropped out.” Shiro deadpanned, eyeing Keith as they entered his room. 

 

“Yeah, Alex wanted me to so I did.” Keith flopped onto his bed, not even bothering to change. 

 

“Damn it, Keith, you really should break up with Alex.”

 

“No, I shouldn’t.”

 

“Here, give me his number at least?” Shiro asked. Keith complied, texting the contact to Shiro before pocketing his phone again. 

 

“I’ll have you know that sober Keith would never do this. So you should be glad that I’m drunk.”

 

“I’m not glad that you’re drunk. Go to sleep Keith, I’ll talk to you in the morning.” Shiro sighed, walking out. Keith groaned, rolling over and quickly falling asleep. 

 

Shiro seemed hellbent on fixing Keith’s life. Keith didn’t know why it mattered so much, but after 5 months he had made some progress. Keith had eventually weaned off of the more hardcore drugs, sticking mainly to weed. He also partied less, although Shiro still thought 3 to 4 times a week was ridiculous. 

 

“If you think that’s bad, you should’ve seen me when I was 16, I toned down the partying before I came here, trust me.” Keith rolled his eyes at Shiro one day as they decorated the Christmas tree. It was snowing in their small town for the first time in years, and that was enough for Keith to give into Shiro’s begging and stay home that night. Damn, he was getting weak. 

 

“I was talking to the staff at the local high school.” Shiro started, grabbing an ornament from Keith’s hands and hanging it up. “They said that if you went back to school and doubled down on classes, that you’d be able to graduate with the rest of the kids your age.” 

 

“I’m not going back to school Shiro. I dropped out for a reason.” Keith sighed.

“Well, you have a week to think about it before winter break is over. Also, you can’t just do whatever Alex says, think for yourself Keith.” 

 

“I don’t want to. He loves me, he knows what’s best for me.”

 

“Does he?” Shiro asked, turning to look at Keith. “All 3 months that you’ve been here and you only ever talk about him when you’re drunk, defending your relationship, or complaining about how he ditched you to go mess around with someone his age. Keith, you’re nothing more than arm candy to him, and you know it. I’m not going to force you to do anything, but you need to start doing what’s best for you.”

 

Three days later, after being left alone at one party too many, Keith broke up with Alex. 

 

Alex wasn’t happy about it. He showed up the day before Keith was supposed to go back to school, as him and Shiro were sorting out his class schedule at the kitchen table. He didn’t bother with knocking, just stormed into the house and left the door open as he made his way to the table. 

 

“What the fuck Keith. You leave me a voicemail out of the blue saying that we’re through, ignore me afterwards, and then decide that you’re a good little christian boy? What happened to the last three years of our lives Keith!”

 

“The last three years of our lives didn’t seem to matter to you when you went home with Mariana last night.” Keith sighed, placing his newly acquired textbooks into his brand new school backpack. 

 

“Keith, baby, please, that didn’t mean anything. I was drunk!”

 

“With due respect, please get out of our house.” Shiro finally made his presence known. 

 

“The fuck you gonna do to me?”

 

“I’ll have you know that trespassing is very much illegal, as well as dating someone underage.” Alex stormed out as Keith and Shiro both stared. Shiro ended up calling the police anyways. 

 

Keith had to say, he felt a little nervous as he looked into the mirror. He wore just a simple pair of black skinny jeans and his favorite red hoodie, tying his hair back into a messy bun. He sighed, pulling on his sneakers before grabbing his backpack and rushing downstairs to meet Shiro. 

 

“You’re going to do fine Keith. You’re going to kick junior year in the ass and you’re going to do better than everyone else with only half the time.” Shiro comforted him as they drove to school. Keith thanked him, before hopping out of the car. 

In art class, they had assigned seats. Keith sat down, some others sat down. Then a boy with startling blue eyes and a loud demeanor walked in, and sat down right next to him. 

 

“Hey, I lost my phone number, can I have yours?” Keith snorted at the pickup line. 

 

“And who might you be?” 

 

“Lance McClain’s the name, lovin’ you is the game.” He shot Keith finger guns, and Keith once again laughed. 

 

He had a feeling he was going to be just fine.


End file.
